Small Victories
Today we took the kids to a jumpy place - not sure what it's called, but it's a big room full of blow up slides and jumpers for the kids to play on. I sat in the corner, quietly re-reading "The Shack" while the kids ran around playing, bouncing, racing, and basically just letting loose. There were a couple really great moments in that 90 minutes of play time. At one point I looked up to see Lily being the first born that she is. She had taken it upon herself to befriend a 2 year old and help her climb on all the toys and play safely. Sitting and watching her I could just see the mother or teacher that she will become, and be so great at it. She is a natural nurturer, which I sometimes mistake for maturity. She is a motherer, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't still need a mother too. She is only nine. Sometimes I struggle between pushing her to grow and mature, and recognizing the little girl she still is.
Later, Lily and Jaxon were both playing with the same little 2 year old girl. Her father was there, playing along as well. He was timing the kids as they raced through the play toys. Part of me felt a little neglectful, just sitting and watching while a complete stranger interacted with my kids. But then, I looked at the fact that they are 7 and 9, I get to choose to sit and watch them play now. I don't have to hover anymore. This Dad, he was probably grateful to my Jax and Lily, for playing with his baby and entertaining her. They were being so great with her, I was a proud Mom.
Here's a side note, one that I am feeling some conflicted emotions about. Maybe you followers have some feedback for me on this one. This little girl and her father were African American. I hate that I even noticed that. I wish that I looked out into a room and saw nothing but the people, not their ethnicities. As I blogged earlier, my upbringing makes that seem impossible. While I hate that I see and identify people as White, Asian, African American, etc. I wonder, is it normal? Do others see the same things I do? I don't judge people by their ethnicities, and actually prefer to have a room full of everyone from everywhere, leaving no minorities or majorities. I love culture, people, stories, and all that comes with people being from all different corners of the world. Here is where i get conflicted - I don't like that I even identified that father and daughter as African American, instead of just as people, but I am so proud that my children didn't. They didn't even flinch at the idea of playing with Dad and daughter - as they shouldn't have anyway. They played, no second thoughts, and had a great time. It works both ways - Dad and daughter could have not wanted to play with J and L either. Rather than there being any animosity, it was just a copacetic group of people, enjoying playing together.
This all loops back to the choices we make everyday as parents, and as people. I want my kids to grow up knowing that the life that they live is not the only life out there. There are so many choices to be made everyday. So many of those choices are neither right or wrong, they just are. Suburbs or city? Vegetarian or omnivore? Jock or artist? Glasses or contacts? SUV or bus? There is no right answer, just a really amazing world of people out there making the choice that is right for them and hoping to be accepted for that choice.
Next blog - less serious. Promise.
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